Genocide at the House of Daniel Robert Moreau, or, "THEM" a Horror Comedy

Posted by Daniel Robert Moreau on Sunday October 22, @04:08PM

A humerous tale about 1 1/2 day invasion.

Date: 15, October 2000 Start Time Approx: 9:41pm CR.T. (Costa Rica Time) Assignment: Operation ANTS Players: Me, Rick a.k.a. The Translator, The Landlady, The Professional a.k.a. The Cleaner, Six Legggggged Intruders Weaponry: RAID: Accion Total (Cont. Net. 285g canister), Other powerful poison of The Landlady's (Cont. Net. 285g canister), The Professional's canister filled with powerful poison, "Ant Killing" Flip Flop Sandals, "Ant Killing" shoes, "Ant Killing" dress pumps with semi high heals. Side Effects of the Enemy: Itching, scratching, and slapping yourself all night because of psychological paranoia of the six legggggged intruders Side Effects of Weaponry: Slight head buzz followed by headache and nausea Death Toll: 4,023 and counting Recommendations: Professional help Quote of the event: "Dios mio"

Tap pitter pat tap tap tap. That was the sound that started it all. I Heard them in the walls. Tap pitter pat tap tap tap. Yes, I heard them through the walls. They were making these almost tiny popping noises, kinda like how a fire would crackle, or even the crinkling of cellophane. Thousands of tiny little feet upon tiny little leggggggs. I was watching a movie (Brahm Stokers The Mummy, it just started) when I first heard them. I looked on over.

I looked on over and BAM, there it was. A six legggggged intruder. Big enough to be dipped in chocolate and considered a meal in some places. It was accompanied by another six legggggged intruder, only this one had wings. I instantly assessed the situation. Wooden paneled wall, gap, six legggggged intruders. Need remedy. Ammunition. A means to protect thy self. A lightbulb went off in my mind as I raced for the cardboard box in the kitchen, still containing miscellaneous debris from the move I had just made to this new apartment, and grabbed my can of RAID Accion Total (Cont. Net. 285g canister). It started shining in my hands when I picked it up. Donning my fatigues (Shorts and "Ant Killing" flip flop sandals) I headed for the living room prepared for action. After a shot of tequila to calm my nerves I was on the front line.

There was no warning. I didn't want to give them a chance. After all they were many, and I was but one. I had the can of RAID, and I used it. I sprayed the living $#*! out of that big guy and his winged buddy. Their little sticky feet suddenly became slippery as their muscles seized up on them. With a loud crash (I could actually hear those bastards hit the floor), and a final kick of their leggggggs, they died. Taps was playing somewhere in the background of my mind. But that was just the beginning.

I'm sure you've heard the expressions "opening a can of worms", well I did just that. Only it wasn't worms I was dealing with, it was ANTS. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSS. I'm also sure you've heard the term "Army of Ants", well, don't take that term lightly. Its true what they say. They do travel in armies. They live in colonies. They even have a fucking queen. Uh, excuse my French. Christ, when them little buggies saw their little buddies go BOOM down to the ground, was when they started feeling the effects of my poison. And boy, did they start a running. See, I figured they would run away from my bad assed self, but NOOOOOOO, they ran out of the wall and started dropping like flies. Now I know I said they were dropping like flies, but they were still alive. They were alive, dead, barely alive, and barely dead. But one thing that is for certain; they were a running. Running every which way. Within seconds I had more than one hundred of them (winged and non-winged) scurrying for safety. Within minutes there were close to a thousand. The wall was instantly alive with the sound of tap pitter pat tap tap tap, and the volume was increasing. My red tiled floor was quickly becoming black with the bodies of dead, and not quite dead yet, six legggggged intruders. I could feel and hear the crunch underneath my feet as I stepped on their bodies, certainly dead now.

You may not believe me, but I tell you this is the truth. These were big. BIG. BIG. BIG. And very BLACK, though some of them did seem to have a bit of brownish-red in them. I'm guessing that the average size of these ants was about 3/4 of an inch. The smallest being maybe a centimeter, and the biggest being about 1 inch. Luckily for me they weren't the biting type.

I got on the horn with my brother. "I'm being attacked. Help! I think I should move my furniture away from them". Within minutes Rick, a.k.a. The Translator, was at my door donning his fatigues (shorts, shirt, socks, and nice "ant killing" shoes). We took a tequila shot and proceeded to the living room.

There were dead bodies everywhere. They were to the left, to the right, on the walls, in the bathroom.......In the hallway? The little buggers were moving deeper into my humble abode. I couldn't let that happen. Christ the living room was a mess as it was, I didn't want to have to sweep the whole house again. We got to stomping. Spraying. Stomping. Stopping only once in a while to take a swig from our beer.

At approximately 10:03pm, only about 22 minutes after the first contact, I decided to give The Landlady a call.

Do“a Elsie is her name, and killing bugs is her game.

Me: Do”a Elsie? The Landlady: Si. Me: Hola, desculpe me molesta, pero, yo tengo una problema. Me: Tengo mucho hormigas. The Landlady: Si. Me: Si, Tengo mucho hormigas grandes. Negras. Milliones. Mucho mucho mucho hormigas. The Landlady: Si, ok. then something in spanish. Me: Hey, I cant understand what she's saying, could you help me out? The Translator: Hola, blah blah blah blah blah..... The Landlady: I cant hear her, because The Translator is talking to her on the phone. duh. The Translator: She says she's on her way with some spray. Me: But, I've already got my can of RAID Accion Total (Cont. Net. 285g canister). The Translator: She says she has something more powerful. Me: Ok.

Five minutes go by and sure enough there she is standing at my door, The Landlady. I could see she had donned her fatigues (nice floral rosy dress, with fancy semi-high healed "Ant Killing" dress shoes, black) and was prepared for action with her special stronger poison containing canister (Cont. Net. 285g). I was jealous. I saw the way that canister was shining in her presence. Like they were one and the same. The dynamic duo.

With a gin, and a grin, she stepped into my humble abode.

The first words to come out of the mouth of The Landlady was "Dios mio". For those of you who don't understand Spanish that means "Oh my god". She has a way with words. She quickly grasped the situation as her index finger went straight for the push button on her canister o' death. I pointed to where they were coming out of the wall and told her to listen. Now this is one brave lady. She put her ear almost directly on the wall where the gap was. Most women, no offence, would not get so close. Hell, I didn't even get my ear that close to the damned six legggggged intruders. But she did. And what did she hear? Tap pitter pat tap tap tap. That was what she heard. And what did she do? She sprayed baby, she sprayed.

I grabbed the broom and started sweeping them six legggggged intruders into one big pile, stepping on the few stragglers that were still alive and trying to get towards the more interior part of my humble abode. I had to move the furniture to get what carcasses had been extinguished underneath. Sweep. Sweep. Sweeping them little buggies into what was now becoming a mountain. The Landlady took the broom from me and started sweeping behind the sofa. Once her pile was finished we combined the two. It was amazingly huge. Rick grabbed a grocery bag. The Landlady swept the little buggies into the dustbin that I was holding and let out a sigh of relief. I was barely able to lift the bag it was so heavy. But seriously, we had just loaded a grocery bag of ants and I'm guessing the weight to be at about 6 - 7 ounces. Now that's a bunch of ants.

After what seemed like hours, but was more like minutes, the room looked much more normal again. The only ants left were still dropping out of the wall leaving a little pile where they fell. The furniture was, of course, in a different arrangement than when the night had begun. It smelt like HELL, though I'm not sure what HELL smells like, it was bad. I was wishing I hadn't thrown out those surgical masks earlier in the move. I sure could've used them. I made sure that The Landlady was going to call in The Professional first thing the next day. She agreed and left. Rick and I helped ourselves to another beer, I think another tequila, and patted ourselves on the back for a job well done.

I thanked Rick as he left and went to the living room to get an overview of what happened that night. Too much. I grabbed my computer and started jotting some things down. I figured these were carpenter ants. Nonetheless they were six legggggged intruders in MY humble abode. I understand that they were there before I was, but hey, who's paying the bills around here? And speaking of bills, I'll be damned if I have to pay The Professional a dime to wipe these guys out. Hell, I practically killed them all myself. In fact, The Professional will probably just come here, see a bunch of dead bodies, spray a little bit around the house, and take off. In fact, that is exactly what he did.

8:30 am the next morning I get woken up by the ringing of my telephone. It was the son of The Landlady. He was calling to tell me The Cleaner was here to take out the laundry. I was happy and upset at the same time. It took me some time getting to sleep that night because of the ordeal. Lots of itching, scratching, and slapping myself all night because of psychological paranoia of the six legggggged intruders, not to mention the horrible HELL smell that kept invading my sleeping quarters. I had a slight headache and felt somewhat nauseous. It was 8:30 in the morning, and for those of you who know me know that I don't like getting up that early. Anyways, I look out my window and there he was.

The Cleaner arrived in this little little mini mini van with pictures of ants, mosquitoes, cockroaches, and spiders all over it. It made me grin. Out of the back he pulled out a large metal container with a hose attached to it. I knew exactly what that was. It wasn't RAID, and it wasn't that stuff The Landlady had. It was something in a class of its own. This is the stuff mamma told you not to play with. This stuff is so powerful, you actually have to leave the premises for hours before you can return and breathe. I smiled even larger. It was the kind of smile crazy psychopaths get when they are looking to destroy something or somebody. Like Jack Torrance in The Shining, I grinned the grin and said "Hola" to The Cleaner. He nodded his head.

I motioned The Cleaner in. He was wearing nice "bug killing" boots. His blue/black jeans, with stains from the guts of numerous bugs, made me realize this man has seen plenty of action. He kind reminded me of Sylvester Stallone in the movie Cobra, because of the glasses he was wearing. I offered him a glass of orange juice with a smile. He looked at me and nodded. He doesn't like to speak much.

Keeping to himself, I showed him where it all started. He nodded his head, tapped on the wall, and looked at me with a grin. He pulled from his back pocket one of those industrial strength surgical masks and said I would have to leave the house for a couple hours before I could come back in. I understood perfectly. I moved some of the furniture aside and he started spraying. I couldn't see beneath the mask, but by the look in his eyes I'm sure that he was smiling. What did The Cleaner do? He sprayed baby, he sprayed. He sprayed in the wall, on the ceiling, in the bathroom, in every room in the house. And when he was done with the inside of the house, he got on his rickety wooden ladder and went up to the roof. What did he do up on the roof? He sprayed baby, he sprayed.

When The Cleaner came back down to earth, I shook his hand and expressed my feelings.

Me: Muchisimas gracias Se’or Professional The Professional: Nod's head Me: Hasta luego The Professional: Nod's head

I got in my car and drove around, doing this and doing that, for about 1 1/2 hours and decided to head home. I had to be at work in 1 hour. When I walked into my apartment there was this smell of death and poison. I didn't want to be there and end up like on of them six legggggged intruders. I quickly took a shower, got dressed, and left. I had a headache from the smell, and started feeling nauseous.

Its now 4 days later and I can still smell that HELL smell The Cleaner left in his wake. That was some powerful poison in that canister of his. The six legggggged intruders are no more. It was a complete genocide as far as I'm concerned. No more Tap pitter pat tap tap tap will I be hearing. No sir, not me. Not anymore. I can sit once again in the safety of my own humble abode and read a book, or watch a movie, or just sit there in a stupor, and not be bugged anymore (pun intended).

The end, or is it?

One million lives to the death in a day and a half of Daniel Robert Moreau

I wish I could burn them With RAID and a match Smell the smell of burning flesh hear the crackle of popping legs

Hell, I'll use anything flammable I wish I could burn them But instead I know I'll sweep them into a plastic bag like the trash that they are and feed them to the basura

I wish I could burn them After I've crushed them under foot and poisoned them with my chemicals Cursed the day they were born and even spit on their dead bodies

I wish I could burn them so they wont crawl on my legs and tickle me till crazy

or march their march Through my humble abode

I wish I could burn them I feel no more sorrow nor care about the squishing as I step Wishing only that they see

that their fate is doomed

I wish I could burn them But there are neighbors Wife and Husband, and 2 cars with children, little boy, and girl There's even a swing set in the front

I Wish that I could burn them but I have wooden walls and they would burn down I would be in a shitload of trouble After all, I don't own my apartment

I wish I could burn them